


I Could Love You Much Better (If You Can’t See It You’re Blind)

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-08 04:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles somehow became the protagonist of a romantic comedy. Too bad his leading lady is in a coma and her brother is making him weak at the knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame my iPod and the fact I adore "While You Were Sleeping". Song title from "Love You Much Better" by the Hush Sound and official song of this fic.

Stiles Stilinski is in love. Well, infatuated. He’s calling it a solid crush. One that rivals the one he had on Lydia Martin in high school. At least by a factor of seven. Maybe a transcendental number. In any case, she is perfect. Maybe he didn’t love her. But she is the closest thing to him having a love life. If you count admiring someone from afar. And he already rates that far above being the third wheel in his best friend’s coupledom. Scott already ditches him more often in favor of Allison. It’s only a natural progression until he’s flying solo. Han-style.

He barely speaks to his lady love. But he cherishes their time together. Though to be fair, she has to talk to him. It’s essential for her to get her caffeine supply. The most he’s strung together is “would you like whip cream on that?” and parroting how much her latte was.

She has midnight black hair and a wide smile that makes her eyes crinkle. His heart develops an arrhythmia when she breezes into the Starbucks where he practically lives in order to pay for university.

He only knows her first name because Starbucks is trying to bring back that human touch. It's a name he sighs over dreamily and has strung together a couple of horribly written poems mainly since he’s had trouble rhyming anything with Laura. Stiles knows if he is just given the chance, he could show her that they could be perfect together. Maybe even double date with Scott and Allison. Or bring her home to Beacon Hills to meet his dad. He’s been pretty ineffectual at talking to her. Mainly since he’s horrible at flirting and there’s always a line of customers behind her. And he needs this job.

He’s pretty much alone in Berkeley. Aside from Scott who also got accepted to the University of California. In his case on a lacrosse scholarship. They were the only two that made the trek together from their small town. Stiles’ GPA alone doesn’t help with the rent on his studio apartment. The one he had to get when Scott decided to move in with his new girlfriend rather that stay with Stiles. So he pulls double shifts at Starbucks and has a work study at one of the university’s libraries. Anything to take some of the pressure of his dad. University is already expensive despite his academic scholarship. It’s not glamorous, but it’s his life.

So he’s not ashamed to admit that when Laura comes in to order her almost daily mochachino with whip cream and a shot of vanilla his day gets brighter. And he falls a little more in love with her. 

***

Christmas is always a sore holiday for him and his dad. His mother was the one that baked, made home-made decorations and would string up the house with lights. Enough to make their house the brightest on the block. Since her passing, they usually went over to the McCall’s and celebrated Hanukkah instead.

So when Stiles skypes his dad on the 15th of December, they decide it’ll be more economical for Stiles to come home for spring break, rather than Christmas. His heart tightens but he smiles winningly at his father. And makes him promise to eat right.

He holds it together until the end of the call. It’s only after closing his laptop that he sighs wearily.

***

He decides to spend his tips on getting a tree. A small one. Very Charlie Brownesque.

“Stilinski,” drawls a familiar voice when Stiles is tugging his tree up the first flight of stairs. The elevator in the building is perpetually broke. But Stiles is not up to getting into a conversation with his landlord. Bobby Finstock still thinks his name is Biles.

“Jackson,” says Stiles, looking at his neighbor. Jackson Whittemore thought he was God’s gift to everyone. Male and female. The fact that Stiles wasn’t even remotely attracted to him was a point of contention between them. Mainly since Stiles asked out his best friend Danny over him. Sadly, Danny had standards. And a boyfriend already. Yet another reason Stiles started to focus again on women.

“Looking good,” Jackson smirks. And Stiles rolls his eyes and continues to drag his tree to his apartment door. Stiles looks like a hobo compared to Jackson. A color-blind one. The point Jackson is trying to prove has gotten old, really fast.

“You’re still not my type,” says Stiles before ducking into his apartment, ignoring Jackson’s scowl.

***

Stiles is cleaning out the coffee grinder when Bryan angles his body next to him.

“Stilinski!” he smiles. And Stiles is already suspicious. “You are amazing, you know.”

“Is this going somewhere, Greenberg? Or are you coming onto me?”

Bryan sighs. “Take the Christmas shift for me?” he asks, and throws in an ineffectual pout.

“I would owe you big time!”

And Stiles sighs before nodding. Better to be working than old in his apartment. Scott’s apparently visiting Allison’s parents this Christmas. “Alright! Thank you, Stiles!”

***

This is how Stiles finds himself at Starbucks on Christmas Day, nearing closing being bored out of his mind. Laura hadn’t even come in. Stiles sighs into the counter. She’s probably with family. Like everyone else. 

It seems like a skewed version of Christmas magic that the door open and in breezes Laura. Stiles nearly takes out the Christmas cookie display in shock.

“Hi!” he croaks out awkwardly. He feels his face flushing bright crimson. Laura shoots him a look that belies disinterest. His heart drops at that look.

“Mochachino with whip cream and a shot of vanilla,” she declares and idly looks at the cake pops in the display window.

Stiles jerks towards wear the cups are balanced and tries to calm his rabbiting heart. Laura ignores him completely.

“Thank you,” she says politely when he hands her drink with a flourish. There is an awkward moment where his fingers brush against hers but she’s at the door tossing a casual “Merry Christmas” when he’s able to pull himself together.

He waits for the door to close before banging his head against the coffee machine in frustration.

“There was your chance, Stiles. You could have said Merry Christmas. And then segued into a marriage proposal. They do it all the time in the movies. She seems the type to like romance,” he berates himself.

He rubs his head, a bruise will probably form later. He casts a lot outside to see a couple of shady looking men following Laura’s wake. They look dangerous.

“Oh, hell no,” he mutters, pulling the baseball bat that his manager insisted over instead of an actual alarm system and dials 9-1-1. He sees one pulling out a syringe. He drops his phone and springs into action, leaping over the counter. He’s not the son of a sheriff for nothing. He’s out the door in a flurry of movement that surprises the first man. It comes to even more of a surprise the growl that comes from Laura as she throws one of the men into the stack of garbage cans.

Despite her prowess, she’s still out-numbered. One of them drives a knife into her arm, and Stiles sees her eyes flash blue. He doesn’t have time to over think it before he’s jumping into the fray.

“Hey! Leave the lady alone!” he says as he swings the bat at one of the thugs legs.

“That ain’t no lady,” one of the men laughs before pushing Laura into the wall with a sickening crack.

It looks like three against one since Laura and only one of the thugs are TKO’d. He grips his baseball bat more firmly. Chokes up a bit.

“I said, leave her alone,” he repeats, with intensity.

The first guy advances with a smirk. “Look at the kid trying to protect the bitch.”

Stiles channels his JV baseball talent into the swing and connects solidly with his midsection. Adrenaline taking over and giving his tunnel vision. He dodges and weaves and it’s over before he knows it. With the last one trying to stab the syringe into Stiles before he knocks it to the ground. Whatever is in it shatters to the ground.

His heart is hammering through his chest when he gets his bearings. He stumbles blindly towards Laura. Bright crimson blood is matting to her dark hair.

And she’s hairy.

Very hairy.

“Shit,” he gasps. He never would have guessed she was a werewolf. Or that they existed. Lycanthropy. Who knew?

He drops the baseball bat and leans down next to her. “Laura?”

She groans but her eyes remain closed. “You need to open your eyes.”

He leans closer to see if she’s breathing. “Please wake up. God, you’re even pretty when you’re unconscious.”

He hears sirens. “You need to de-wolf. I don’t think EMTs are equipped for werewolves.”

Stiles shakes her quite insistently. Laura’s eyes crack open minutely before she groans again in confusion. Her eyes flash electric blue once before she shifts back into the Laura he’s more familiar with. Not that she isn’t a pretty werewolf. Stiles could never judge Laura.

He hopes she won’t judge him. Especially when he tells the EMTs he’s her fiancé in order to ride in the ambulance with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Erica Reyes got into medicine to help people. All shapes and sizes. She spent enough time in hospitals growing up to know how important nurses could be. The werewolf bite she got when she was a teenager didn't change that. Sure it cured her epilepsy but she remembers the cold nights alone in a hospital bed in the children's ward. She wasn't lucky to have someone there for her but she knew she could be there for her patients. Berkley wasn't a small town by any means but it was far from most pack disputes and supernatural beasties of the week. Which is something Erica appreciated. She left her pack on a sour note.

So when she smells a werewolf in the ER her instincts flare up protectively. She pages Doctor Fenris immediately down to the ER and switches charts with another nurse to get the other wolf's file.

Laura Hale.

She wrinkles her nose. Of course one of the betas from the biggest pack in Northern California had to walk into her ER.

***

After being Stiles is grilled by the EMTs on the drive over, Laura is carted off through the waiting room with no more than a how do you do. Stiles is still worried about her lycanthrophy but she was stable in the ambulance. Unconscious but not very hairy. Well, just the right amount of hair.

Craning his neck, Stiles tries to follow her gurney but gets a dirty look from a security guard when he stumbles into him. It's only when he sees a nurse drinking a coffee cup bearing the Starbucks logo that Stiles rushes to contact Scott. Adrenaline is still running high so he shoots a quick text to Scott begging him to take the spare key from his apartment to lock up the Starbucks. Laura may be the love of his life, but he needs that job. Scott miraculously responds with a smiley emoticon and an ungrammatical demand to know what happened. Stiles breathes a sigh of relief. Hopefully no one has stolen all the straws and mugs.

Pocketing his phone, he tries to get back to Laura but it's not as easy as he would have expected. The EMTs are nowhere to be seen and the security guard is still glaring at him.

"I came in with the dark ebony haired enchantress like ten minutes ago?" he offers to the receptionist, leaning over the desk, both arms braced on the counter. The security guard crosses his arms and he leans back.

"Name?" the receptionist asks dryly, shooting him a bored look over her glasses. 

“Stiles Stilinski," Stiles offers with his best charming smile. It falls flat at her dark look.

“Her name,” the receptionist bites out.

“Oh! Laura," Stiles sighs dreamily. The receptionist doesn't look impressed. "I don't know her name," Stiles admits. "She had a head wound?" He mimes out a pretty accurate reenactment of how Laura slammed into the alley wall. The receptionist stares at him for a moment before ignoring him in favor of her computer.

Stiles exhales loudly. He worries his bottom lip and catches Laura being pushed on a gurney by a nurse and two doctors in the open hallway behind the reception desk.

"Laura! That's her!" He points at still unconscious Laura who is getting further away from the ER reception and into the bowels of the hospital.

The receptionist turns towards the hall and looks at Stiles. "Are you family, kid?"

Stiles opens his mouth and hesitates. The lie he gave to get to the hospital feels crass now. And the receptionist is squinting at him. "No-" he begins but is cut off by the receptionist.

"Family only," she drawls out like she's talking to someone especially obtuse. Stiles' feet jerk towards Laura, like a magnet. Her gurney is almost out of sight. The hard hand of the security guard stops him from making it past the receptionist.

"Family only," the security guard parrots condescendingly.

Stiles opens and closes his mouth helplessly as he's strong armed away.

"I was going to marry her," he says softly when the guard leaves him in the emergency waiting room. Stiles' arms hang helplessly at his sides as he loses sight of Laura. He feels his heart breaking. 

He misses the nurse in green scrubs eyes flash gold.

***

Erica calls in two favors to pull Fenris to the ER. Deaton took a sweet time to be on vacation. She's been running werewolf interference around the hospital and has finally been able to come back down to catch up with Doctor Fenris in the ER. She hopes after today, she can go home and curl up with a romance novel. Maybe a good cup of tea and ignore how she's still single and packless. If only life was like those books, even the terrible supernatural ones with terribly written werewolves and vampires. Being in a pack of one can get lonely, especially when one is thrown into your face. Sometimes her wolf whimpers at the thought. Someone to spend those full moons with. To run with. She could meet a nice guy. Maybe with a dreamy smile who loved bad horror movies and could skate. But she's probably channeling those monthly calls from her grandmother, who still asks if she's met a nice boy and when she'll visit.

When Erica finally gets to the reception, there's a cute guy, to gangly for her tastes, pleading with Martha, the old battleaxe that works at the front desk. Her keen ears pick up on two things. One, he's the strapping hero that rescued Laura Hale from her erst-while attackers, probably hunters, which has Erica snarling at the thought, and praising the human for his heroism. Two, he's her fiancé.

Erica's romantic heart swoons at that. Not many humans are overly accepting of werewolves. Her eye twitches at the stray thought of her parents and her ex-boyfriend who left her when she dropped the news. Her gaze reassesses the tall brunet. Definitely not her type but she can see why another she-wolf would want him for a mate.

She feels the innate urge to help. To hell with being covert about being an unattached she-wolf. She'll deal with the Hales on her own terms later. She'll help this human. Mates should be together. A pesky marriage license shouldn't stop that.

***

Stiles is half way towards the hospital exit, when a hand grips his bicep firmly. He was half way through a half ass plan of rushing the door when he was being dragged away from the exit. He only realizes he's being herded past reception by a blonde nurse with a determined glare that has the security guard jumping out of the way. Stiles could have sworn she growled. She only lets go when she's pushed him into a room where Laura is resting.

Stiles stumbles towards Laura's beside with a concerned frown. She's still unconscious.

"She-" he stumbles out, his voice catching in his throat.

"Coma," the nurse says sympathetically. "We heal the same as you when unconscious."

Stiles balks at her. She smiles wanly, flashing fang. Stiles congratulates himself for not fainting. Werewolves are apparently everywhere. He wonders what else is out there.

He glances at her name tag. Erica Reyes.

"She just needs rest," Erica assures him and Stiles heart catches up to him and his entire body shudders with relief.

"Awesome," he manages to croak out, wilting at Laura's side. She looked so ethereal. Like Snow White. Gorgeous in hospital blankets. He'd never suspect she was a werewolf. It made her ten times more mysterious. Suddenly his life was a Stephanie Meyer-esque spin-off. Well, except without creepy babies and awkward imprinting. Stiles knows this will bring them closer. They have a secret now. Werewolves. Motherfucking werewolves. He'll need to google the hell out of this.

He stumbles to the chair next to her bedside and basks in her presence. His hand reaching for Laura's. Erica smiles softly at him and hums softly before ducking out of the room.

He's lost in his own thoughts about werewolves and the possibility of true love's kiss when loud voices can be heard from the hall. He moves to sit down in the chair next to her bed when his attention is caught by a loud group of people. He instantly drops Laura's hand and looks up to a pack of people followed by a doctor and Erica who's keeping her distance with a worried frown.

"Is she alright?" asks a tall dark skinned man softly to the doctor who looks a little frazzled.

"Laura?" asks a older woman with grey hair and a striking resemblance to Laura, leaning over Laura's prone form. "Your mama's here, sweetheart."

A tall man sidles up beside her, gripping the woman's shoulders. "Laura? Sweetie, can you hear me?"

A curly haired man moves around the bed to peer at her from the foot. A dapper older man files in after with the doctor.

"She's stable. Her brainwaves are good and mirroring a consistent sleep pattern," the doctor declares but the man leaning over Laura who Stiles guesses to her father glares at the doctor with a dark scowl.

"What's wrong with her brain?" he looks towards the other older man with a worried look. "Are you a specialist?"

Stiles feels like he could stress eat an entire family fun-size bag of Reese's right now. He remembers how worried he was when his mom was in the hospital and how powerless he felt. How he saw her slowly disappear. He clutches the hospital chair tightly at the memory and worries his bottom lip with his teeth, taking in Laura's unconscious form. She's stronger than his mom, werewolves don't die from head wounds, at least not in any horror movie he's seen. It's apparent he's intruding, he doesn't belong here. Not with a family looking at Laura with anxious concern. He slowly gets up, the crowd around Laura's bed is distracted enough by giving the doctor the third degree that he edges towards the door. Laura's safe now, no one will notice him leaving.

Except he's not so lucky.

The man in the leather jacket who looks a bit younger than who Stiles' thinks is Laura's father catches him by the arm when he's halfway to the door. "Who are you?" he asks, with a smooth drawl.

Stiles is saved by Erica who steps in-between them with a scowl, drawing more attention from everyone else in the room.

"Her fiancé," Erica declares.

Stiles just gapes uselessly at her.

"Her fiancé!" shouts Laura's father in surprise.

"Her what?" yelps Laura's mother in shock.

"Laura's engaged?" frowns the curly haired guy and the taller one just shoots Erica a considering look.

"No, you don't understand-" Stiles tries to say.

"What's your name, boy?" demands Laura's father but his wife swats his arm. "Be nice to him."

"I'm Stiles? Stiles Stilinski?" he offers and shoots Erica a betrayed look.

"She didn't tell us she was engaged," frowns the dark skinned guy.

"No - you see, there's a - well - what?!" Stiles stumbles to say.

"We haven't seen dear Laura in a long time," says the man still holding Stiles' wrist, albeit his grip got loose enough for Stiles to take his hand back.

Stiles is without words. Words cease to exist to him now. His voice stuttering at all the contemplative looks. He feels like a panic attack is coming on.

"He's more than that," Erica adds, drawing Stiles away from the man. "He saved her life."

And Stiles just blinks owlishly at Erica. Because this has all taken a very Spanish telenova turn. And he wants off this ride. So yeah, he saved Laura. But he didn't tell Erica that. Unless werewolves are psychic. And if they are, why aren't they clawing his face off? Because he thinks lying about being engaged to your daughter is at the top of the list of reasons to maul someone.

He's contemplating breaking for the door when he's assaulted by a giant group hug. One where even Erica is included. Exclamations of gratitude are thrown about which has Stiles reeling and feeling a little too green.

"Thank you so much for saving her. Saving her from those hoodlums. So heroic," gushes the older woman with a grateful smile. "I'm Laura's mother, Anna."

Which cues an introduction to Laura's father, William, her uncle, Peter and Boyd and Issac who Stiles sees no relation to the rest. Stiles is trying very hard not to throw up and have a full on panic attack. He suspects he fails as Anna ushers him to the vacant hospital chair.

"Nice to meet you," Stiles says weakly, trying to get his heart rate under control.

"So, how long have you and Laura been dating?" asks Peter, crossing his arms considerately.

"Uhhhh," Stiles falters looking at Erica but she's busy having a staring match with Boyd.

Anna slaps Peter on the shoulder with reproach.

"Peter, be nice," she turns back to Stiles with a warm smile. "Stiles is family now."

"So, how did you two meet?" Isaac asks curiously.

"Yeah, wasn't she dating that camera guy?" frowns Boyd, conceding his staring contest to Erica with a rueful smile.

"Matt," Liam spits out with contempt. "There was always something off with that boy."

"It's so nice that Laura found a nice boy to settle down with," Anna says. "Did you woo her away from him? I bet you did, didn't you? You look like a charmer. I bet it was love at first sight. Right?"

"Let the boy tell it, Anna," Peter chides with an interested look.

Stiles can feel beads of sweat building on his neck. Erica seems just as interested, or just trying to ignore Boyd. For whatever reason.

"I'm letting him tell it," huffs Anna, waving Peter off. "What was it about her that, you know, that first struck you?"

Stiles exhales deeply. Finally, question he can answer honestly. "Her smile," he says. "We saw each other - and - um - she smiled. And I knew that my life would never be the same."

Laura's mother sighs dreamily and her husband shoots Stiles a warm smile.

"I should, um, go," Stiles says shiftily, looking at everyone. He needs to get out of here fast. The longer he stays the more awkwardly this will get. "I still haven't given my statement to the police."

The group make a collective disappointed noise, one that has Stiles' flushing red at the attention. It's strange to have someone other than his dad or Scott want to be around him for a prolonged period of time. Even if it's based on a lie.

***

Erica follows him out, keeping her back to the exit, warily eyeing Boyd. When they're in the clear he grabs her arm and drags her to a deserted hallway.

"Why did you tell them I was her fiancé?" he nearly shouts but it comes out more like a high whisper. A hysterical one, complete with arm flailing.

Erica's eyes widen in surprise and she pulls him further down the hall, looking back towards Laura's room in fear.

"You said you were!" she whispers. Stiles grabs his head in frustration.

"I did no such thing! And if I did, I was probably talking to myself! Me! In private. You know, monologuing? I've never talked to her outside drink orders!"

"Then why did you say you were going to marry her?" she scowls, her teeth getting sharper.

"I don't know! I say shit all the time out loud! No one ever listens to me!" he says, throwing his hands up the air.

Erica snarls at him and Stiles jerks back from her in fear. "I vouched for you!" she hisses. "My word to the Hale's Alpha. Do you know how bad this is?"

Stiles blinks at her. "Bad?" he hazards.

Erica sighs in defeat, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling. "Bad enough I'm on their radar. And now there's you. I thought you were mates!"

"You smelt that?" asks Stiles, sniffing at his armpit. Maybe he had a chance with Laura.

She wrinkles her nose in disgust and scowls. "No, you opened your big mouth and I thought I was helping. And it would have given me leverage to not get into a pack dispute. Lone wolves like me try to live under the radar. Our low survival rate alone isn't because we're thrill seekers."

"No one asked you to do this!" scowls Stiles. "And now, now they think - they think I'm a hero."

"Yeah, you're a regular ol' cape crusader." Erica barks out a sharp laugh. "When they find out, no one will find our bodies. Crossing Hales is a sure fire way to end up dead."

"Their daughter is in a coma. Telling them now will just - well - it would be cruel."

Erica sighs deeply, her eyes assessing Stiles. "You were going to marry her. Why did you say that?"

Stiles chuckles in a deprecating way, leaning on the corridor's wall. "I'm in love with her," Stiles says bitterly. "I've never talked to her, but, I love her. It's stupid. I know. It's beyond pathetic. But, I can't help it."

Erica bites her lip, and reaches out to grip his shoulder in solidarity. "It's only a little bit stupid," she murmurs. "We'll figure this out."

Stiles wilts in relief.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.


End file.
